Lux lucis Meus Candela
by Criminally Insane Hermit
Summary: Severus Snape has lost everything. He has been stripped of his magic, his title, his job... Most painful of all, he has been stripped of His Harry. Post-war. Part one in the 'Suum Fabula Carmen' series.


A/N: **PLEASE READ, VERY IMPORTANT!** New Story! Okay, this is the first in a series I am starting to write. The series name is 'Suum Fabula Carmen'. It will be a series of one-shots, so if you alert it, Author Alert, don't Story Alert, since the stories will all be separate. New stories in the series will show up at odd times, since I have a WIP that is taking up most of my time.

Additional Information: This series is post-war Snarry, and should mostly be angsty and dark with a little bit of humor. It is AU as of OotP, so Sirius is alive. It is unlikely that I will incorporate anything from the last three books. No horcruxes, no Hallows. This first one is mainly to give background and spark some questions. (Mostly 'WTF?'.)

Something **IMPORTANT** you should know is that all of the stories contain lines and inspiration from my favorite musicals. (They will be tweaked to my taste though.)Occasionally the lines/inspiration will come from a song that is by an artist, not from a musical. Today's inspiration is 'Light my Candle' from the Broadway musical RENT.

Warnings: Slash, innuendo, a mysterious man in leather, and mentions of drug abuse.

Disclaimer: -Yawns-

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Severus Snape stalked about his sparsely furnished apartment, lighting candles and attempting to generate some modicum of heat. For the millionth time, he cursed Voldemort, the ministry, Albus Dumbledore, and the idiot manager who had decided that Christmas Eve was a great time to come collect rent, and had subsequently turned off the power when the residents of his property had refused to pay. Severus huffed. The idiot had promised them all a rent-free living arrangement when he bought the building.

It was a severe blow to Severus' pride that he was even in this situation. He was head of one of the oldest, most powerful, and richest families in the Wizarding World for Merlin's sake! Now that Voldemort was vanquished, he should be lounging about in a lavish backyard, waited on by a number of house elves. Or perhaps some handsome young men. Yet he was sitting in this warehouse-like apartment in downtown London, worrying about when he was going to eat next, and unsuccessfully trying to ignore the sharp, empty pain in his chest.

A little under three years ago Severus had stood alongside his young lover, battling Voldemort. He and Harry had discovered that they were much stronger together than apart, and so stayed together during the Final Battle. But when Voldemort died, the backlash was so great that it had destroyed nearly everything in the immediate vicinity. Harry had got the brunt of it, and, well… Anyway, Severus had been put in a coma for three weeks, and when he woke up, it turned out that he had lost his magic.

Without his magic, he had nothing to stop the ministry from stripping him of his title as Head of the Snape family, removing him from his teaching position, and throwing him out of the Wizarding World on his arse. All they had left him with was the small, dingy apartment he had occupied in his teenage years before he began to spy, while his father was still alive and antagonizing him. There had been no help from the great and almighty Albus Dumbledore, since Severus had been in a, "highly inappropriate relationship with a 16-year-old student. Really Severus, I expected better from you." Harry's friends and family had been of little help either. The Weasley's had sneered at him, Black had attacked him, Lupin had helped Black, and Granger had gone missing during the Final Battle. Minerva, the only other person who might have helped, had died in the Battle. Severus had not been allowed to go to her funeral.

Severus thought almost reminiscently of the last time he had lived in this apartment. He had been broke and starving then too, but he had had friends, one or two boyfriends, and penchant for fun. That, or he had always been too high on heroin to really care. He sighed again. He had never before felt so old. He had tried to get back into the clubbing, bachelor lifestyle, tried to forget that any of it had ever happened, but it hadn't worked. Despite his lack of magic, he was still a wizard, and had a wizard's lifespan, so he appeared to only be in his late twenties. This simple fact should have made it easier to slip back into the lifestyle. Should have, but didn't.

He was dragged out of his musings by a knock on his door. He stalked over to it, and slid it open, ready to shout at anyone who had dared disturb him. However, his words died in his mouth when he saw who was standing there.

For a heartbeat, he thought that Harry had miraculously risen from the grave. His breath caught in his throat, and his heart beat a rapid tattoo in his chest. Then, his brain caught up with him. Harry was… Gone. Forever. The man in front of him did look extraordinarily like him though. Black hair that fell shaggily to his shoulders, slim, lithe body, and the most vivid green eyes that Severus had ever seen. However, this man was taller by a bit, slightly older looking than Harry, and had no scar. Not that Severus could really tell, since the man's fringe covered his forehead. Still, he had no glasses to hide his eyes, and Severus could not imagine Harry wearing something as skin-tight and provocative as the man in front of him was. Well, he _could_, but the simple fact was that Severus' Harry did not wear leather. Had not worn leather, rather. It was no surprise that this man seemed familiar to Severus. The man held up a candle and smiled at him.

"Got a light?"

Severus stared at him for a split second, noting that the man seemed to be shivering. He blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.

"I know you, you're- you're shivering."

He cursed himself silently. Severus Snape did not get flustered damnit! Especially not in front of a young man he didn't know, who had just walked into his apartment uninvited. The man smiled at him again.

"It's nothing. The bastard owner turned off my heat, and I'm just a little weak on my feat."

Courtesy- or possibly insanity- prompted Severus to wrap his jacket around the unknown man's shoulders. The man gazed at him, then held up his candle.

"Would you light my candle?"

There was some sort of hidden innuendo there, but Severus ignored it, and searched his pockets for some matches. The man strolled along in front of the large wall of grubby windows that let a small amount of light into the dark apartment. Severus could not help but notice the way the moonlight glinted off of the man's messy hair. The aforementioned man raised an eyebrow at him.

"What are you staring at?"

Severus cursed at being caught staring, and desperately hoped he could salvage this situation.

"Nothing. Your hair in the moonlight."

Damn it! So much for that plan. The man smirked at him. Severus grabbed his matches and lit the candle, just for something to do. Time to drive the conversation away from himself.

"You look familiar."

The man just smirked at him and moved to leave, but he stumbled. Maybe it was the whole courtesy/insanity thing again, but Severus reached out to stabilize him.

"Can you make it?"

The man smiled and returned to strolling around the apartment.

"Just haven't eaten much today. At least the room stopped spinning."

Severus followed his progress with his eyes, pointedly ignoring the fact that the man's smile was remarkably like Harry's, and a thought struck him. Not eating, shivering, skinny… The man's voice broke into his thoughts.

"What?"

Damn! Caught staring again! Severus opened his mouth and got the distinct feeling that he was going to say something foolish again.

"Your smile reminded me of-"

Yep. Foolish. Luckily, the other man interrupted, smiling wryly.

"I always remind people of- Who is he?"

Before Severus could think about it, he answered.

"He died. His name was Harry."

The man turned to look at Severus abruptly, and Severus noted that the candle was out. He wondered if the man had snuffed the candle out, to serve as a change of topic.

"It's out again! Sorry about your friend."

The man tossed out the words carelessly, and moved back towards Severus.

"Would you light my candle?"

Severus tried to be angry about the man's careless words of 'condolence', but found himself incapable. It had been a long time since he had felt any sort of emotion regarding Harry. He had numbed himself. Instead, he took out another match and lit the candle again. The man didn't move away once the candle was lit, much to Severus' consternation. They lingered there for a minute, much too close for Severus' peace of mind. He needed to get this man out of his apartment.

"Well…"

"Yeah- Ow!"

Severus glanced down to where the man's slender fingers were wrapped around the length of the candle.

"Oh, the wax. It's-"

The man interrupted him again, as seemed to be his custom.

"-dripping! I like it between my-"

This time it was Severus who interrupted.

"-fingers! I figured. Oh, well, goodnight."

The man smirked at him again, and then swaggered out of the room. Severus was hard-pressed not to watch his backside as it disappeared from sight.

The door had barely closed before there was another knock. Severus went and opened it, and found himself looking at the stranger. He noticed the candle had once again gone out. He raised an eyebrow, both at that, and the fact that the man seemed anxious about something.

"Your candles out?"

"I think that I dropped my stash."

Severus' eyebrow inched higher. The man strode past him and into the apartment, looking at the floor. As he watched the man search his apartment, he was struck again by a chord of memory. Harry was, obviously, prominent, but something else danced around the edges of Severus' mind. Something from just after Severus moved back to London.

"I know I've seen you out and about, when I used to go out."

To Severus' annoyance, the man didn't answer, ignoring Severus completely, talking to himself.

"I had it when I walked through the door. It was pure! Is it on the floor?

Severus barely had enough time to register the comment before the man was on his hands and knees, crawling around, a certain part of his body offered up for Severus' inspection. And inspect he did, although he cursed himself for it. The man looked behind himself, smirking when he noticed Severus staring.

"You're staring again."

"What? Oh- Um- You look familiar."

The man grinned at the change of topic. Severus ignored it and got down on his hands and knees to help him search.

"Like your dead boyfriend."

"Yes, but I swear I've seen you somewhere else."

"Do you go to the Dogs Claws club? That's where I work. I dance."

Now Severus remembered where he had seen the man. While he had been coping with his removal from the Wizarding World (and the reasons behind it), he had gone to the club once or twice. After he had caught sight of the Harry-like dancer, he had never stepped foot in there again. He could not help but smirk.

"Yes! They used to tie you up."

The man paused.

"It's a living."

"I didn't recognize you without the handcuffs." Severus said, now thoroughly enjoying himself. The enjoyment died when the man turned the tables on him. He scooted toward Severus, coming uncomfortably close, and held up his candle.

"We could light the candle."

Severus fumbled for his matches, not looking at the Harry-like man in front of him. He lit the candle once again, registering that he was out of matches. He got struck by inspiration, hoping that he could get the ball back into his court.

"Why don't you forget that stuff? You look like you're sixteen."

The man stood up with a sexy twist to his mouth, and strolled in front of the window-wall again.

"I'm nineteen! I'm old for my age; I'm just born to be bad."

Severus raised his eyebrow, standing up and crossing his arms.

"I used to shiver like that."

The man was no longer looking at him.

"I have no heat, I told you."

"I used to sweat."

"I got a cold."

"Uh huh. I used to be a junkie."

The man turned to look at him, his sexy twist turning into a seductive smile.

"Now and then I like to-"

"Uh huh?"

"Feel _good_."

Severus noticed a small baggie on the ground, filled with a familiar-looking powder. He stooped and picked it up, slipping it into his back pocket.

"What's that?!" The man demanded.

Severus smirked.

"Candy bar wrapper." He put as much effort as he could into making it sound off-hand.

The man walked toward Severus, intense green eyes boring into Severus' black ones.

"We could light the candle."

Now he could _really_ hear the innuendo. The man came closer, ducking his head around Severus, trying to catch a glimpse of the baggie. Severus snuffed out the candle while his head was down, then backed up and sat down on a couch. The man advanced upon him.

"Oh, what'd you do with my candle?"

Severus shrugged, still smirking, and watched as the man sat on the arm of the couch, right beside him.

"That was my last match."

The man carelessly tossed aside the candle.

"Our eyes'll adjust. Thank God for the moon."

The man grabbed one of Severus' hands, turning it over and tracing the lines with one finger. Severus averted his eyes. Harry used to do that.

"Cold hands."

He was dismayed to hear his voice shake.

"Yours too. Big. Like my father's."

There seemed to be a joke in that sentence, but Severus couldn't decipher it. The man suddenly pulled Severus off the couch and into the middle of the apartment.

"You wanna dance?"

"With you?"

The man spinned himself, continuing to hold onto Severus' hand.

"No. With my father."

Severus sighed in defeat, stepping back. He seemed to have met his match, for the first time since Harry. He readied himself for his first social step into recovery.

"I'm Severus."

The man grinned, circling Severus' form. He quickly and discreetly grabbed the baggie in Severus' back pocket, and then locked eyes with Severus once more, mockingly dangling the baggie for a moment before putting it away.

"My name is Harry."

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A/N: -Cackles wickedly- Don't you just hate me? -Smirks- Review please! And remember; Author Alert, **don't** Story Alert. If you Story Alert, you'll never catch wind of the sequel. 


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